The Woes of a Bookworm
by IndyGirl89
Summary: Hermione makes a new friend, who helps her blow off some steam after an incident involving her cat and Ron's rat. Set during Hermione and Ron's brief estrangement during the trio's third year. One-shot.


**Will you look at this? My first EVER full-length Harry Potter one-shot! I got this idea after writing a little personalized head canon for a fan of a Harry Potter page I used to admin on FB. It's a short scene featuring Hermione and an OC (actually, the fan) in the Hogwarts library during the trio's third year. This is during the short estrangement between Ron and Hermione after Crookshanks "eats" Scabbers. This character helps Hermione blow off some steam about the whole thing. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and please review! DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters or anything else related to it. It all belongs to the amazing Jo Rowling. However, I do own the OC I created for the purposes of this story.**

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Hermione sat in the library with her schoolwork, fuming. She was furious with Ron for accusing her cat of eating his rat, she was furious with Harry for taking Ron's side, she was furious with herself for ever getting involved with either of them in the first place. She was so infuriated that she wrote harder than she meant to and ripped a hole in her parchment with her quill. Sighing exasperatedly, she grabbed her wand to repair the hole, but all she managed to do in her anger was create a little spark that burned a bigger hole into her parchment. She snarled and was raising her wand again when she heard a calm, quiet voice from behind her.

"Here, let me," said the voice, which turned out to be male. Hermione whipped her head around and saw an older Ravenclaw boy pull out his wand and tap her parchment, repairing the damage.

"Thank you," she said sniffily.

"I'm Michael," said the boy, holding out his hand, but Hermione ignored it. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Hermione asked stiffly.

"Whatever's on your mind right now," Michael answered.

"There's nothing on my mind," said Hermione, gathering her things and making to leave the library.

"You're lying," said Michael simply.

"No, I'm not," Hermione insisted, trying to get past him, but he wouldn't budge.

"Yes, you are," said Michael. "I can see it in your mind."

 _Great_ , Hermione thought. _He's a Legilimens. Well, since he already knows there's something on my mind, what would it hurt to actually tell him? And who knows? It might even make me feel better. And besides, who's he going to tell?_ So she sat down and told him the whole story, starting from all the way back in the summer when she had first bought Crookshanks up to the current incident of him allegedly eating Ron's rat. Michael listened intently without interruption. When she had finished, he was quiet for a few minutes before speaking again.

"So, let me get this straight," he said slowly and thoughtfully. "You're upset because your friend is accusing your cat of eating his rat, even though you insist that your cat had nothing to do with it and that he had just never liked your cat from the moment it had jumped on his head in the Magical Menagerie?"

"In a nutshell, yes," said Hermione, her anger threatening to bubble to the surface again.

"Well, it sounds to me like your friend has good reason to be angry," he said. "Are you sure you're being fair?"

"I don't have to listen to this," Hermione seethed, starting to gather her books again. "This was such a waste of time telling you this. I didn't ask for a lecture." She stood up again.

"Who said I was lecturing you?" Michael asked quietly.

"No one. It's just—well—oh, it doesn't matter," Hermione snapped. "The point is, I only told you this to get it off my chest, and not for any other reason."

"No, there's another reason you wanted to tell someone about this," said Michael.

"And what reason would that be?" Hermione challenged.

"Sympathy," said Michael simply.

Hermione froze as though she had just had the full Body Bind put on her. She couldn't hide anything from him, and it annoyed her. That had been one of the reasons she had wanted to tell someone else, but darned if she was going to admit that to a perfect stranger. She knew nothing about this boy, other than his name and house and the fact that he was a Legilimens. She decided to test him.

"Okay," she said, coming out of her reverie. "What other reasons do you think I wanted to tell someone else this?"

Michael answered almost immediately. "You wanted an outsider's opinion."

 _Dang, but he is good_ , Hermione thought. "Anything else?" she asked him.

This time, Michael was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "No, but I sense that you're starting to calm down a bit. Our talk must be helping." He smiled at her.

Hermione smiled back in spite of herself. "Yes, I daresay it is," she agreed.

"Well, now that that's aside, may I ask what you're working on?" Michael asked, trying to read the weird, spiky shapes and symbols on her parchment. "From what I can see, it looks complicated."

"It's a translation for Ancient Runes," Hermione answered, going back to the assignment now that their first conversation had ended. "And yes, it is a bit complicated, but I like a challenge."

"Well, you're certainly bright enough to tackle it, from what I can tell," said Michael, smiling again.

"Are you saying that because of personal experience or are you reading my mind again?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"I suppose a little of both," Michael answered, and Hermione's expression softened. There was a moment of silence while he watched her work, then he said, "You know, you never did tell me your name."

"It's Hermione," Hermione answered, still scribbling away with her quill. "Hermione Granger."

"Hermione," Michael repeated softly. "A very nice name, if I may say. And what year are you in?"

"Look," said Hermione, looking up from her rune translation. "If you're trying to get me to—"

"No, it's not like that at all," Michael interjected. "I'm just trying to get to know you, is all. So?" He waited for her answer.

"Third year," Hermione answered after a moment, looking up something in her copy of _Spellman's Syllabary_ before returning once again to her translation. "And you?"

"Sixth," Michael answered. "Though I have a sister in your year."

"Really?" said Hermione, looking up from her translation with an expression of great interest. "What house is she in?"

"Same as me, Ravenclaw," Michael replied. "Lisa Turpin. I don't know whether you know her?"

"I do recall a Lisa Turpin being sorted into Ravenclaw during our Sorting two years ago," said Hermione, thinking back. "But no, I've never met her."

"I think you'd like her," said Michael. "I think you two would get along well. She's a bookworm, too, and very smart."

"Well, she sounds like a nice girl," said Hermione, smiling.

"She is, very much so," Michael agreed, smiling back.

The rest of the evening passed in pleasant conversation. Hermione was pleased to discover how easy it was to talk to Michael, easier than perhaps either Harry or Ron. When Madame Pince came to shoo them out at eight o' clock, Hermione gathered her books and they left the library together, continuing to chat all the way down the corridor. Before Hermione knew it, they were standing outside the entrance to Gryffindor tower. She turned to face Michael.

"You know, you didn't have to follow me all the way back to my common room," she said, smirking at him.

"I just wanted to make sure you got back safely and without any problems," Michael said. "Plus, I felt it was the gentlemanly thing to do." He smiled at her.

"Well, I do appreciate it, but I can take care of myself," said Hermione, shifting the books in her arms to get a better grip on them.

"All the same," said Michael, turning to walk back down the corridor toward his own common room. "Better safe than sorry. Good night, Hermione. It was nice to have met you." He turned the corner and was soon out of sight.

"Good night, Michael," Hermione said softly to herself. She turned to the Fat Lady, gave her the password, and climbed through the portrait hole.

As usual for this time of night, Gryffindor tower was packed and noisy. Most of the noise was coming from an excitable group by the window, most of them girls, at the center of which, naturally, were Fred and George Weasley, who were entertaining them with jokes and tricks. She saw Harry and Ron sitting over by the fire working on their own homework. Books and parchment scattered the table and crumpled up bits of parchment littered the floor. Harry looked up as she walked past. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but she determinedly averted her eyes and made her way up to the girls' dormitories, which was mercifully empty of the twittering of two of her fellow roommates, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.

She put her books and things away neatly and, seeing as she had had a rough few days, decided to turn in early. She put her pajamas on and got into bed, pulling the hangings of her four-poster closed around her. Before she fell asleep, she thought about Michael. He seemed like a nice boy, was understanding and a good listener. However, there was that very slight drawback that he was a Legilimens, and knew what she was thinking before even she herself knew. But she admit that she liked him, and her last thought before she fell asleep was that she may have at last found a kindred spirit.

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 **Hope you enjoyed this! It's shorter than most of my other one-shots, but I just wanted it to be a short scene (And also, it was hard just to get it to this length.) I thought it would be nice for Hermione to make a new friend while she's mad at Harry and Ron.**

 **Thank you for reading! :)**


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